


Stormy Weather

by unwillingadventurer



Category: Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 22:23:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14724695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwillingadventurer/pseuds/unwillingadventurer
Summary: Raffles and Bunny rest at the Albany whilst a storm rages outside. They recall the day back at the old school when Bunny was afraid of the weather.





	Stormy Weather

Some of my greatest pleasures in life were those simple moments Raffles and I retired to the Albany after a long day and sat in front of the roaring fire as night fell upon us. I would read a novel and Raffles his newspaper and we were perfectly content; almost creatures of habit. We each had a glass of scotch whiskey on the table and both had a Sullivan’s between our fingers. Raffles reclined as he so often did with his legs upon the settee whilst I sat in my usual armchair, facing him.

On this occasion the weather outside was horrendously grey and we’d made it back from supper just in time to miss the sudden downpour that seemed to hit as we arrived back at the Albany. The rain was accompanied by the fury of a thrashing of thunder and lightning. 

“It’s coming down out there,” I said, momentarily glancing at the window as I took my eyes away from the pages of my book. I could see the rain dripping down the pane of glass and every so often a flash of light lit the room. “Really, really, coming down out there.”

Raffles lowered his newspaper and his eyebrow rose. A familiar smirk appeared on his face. “Yes, you’re quite observant Bunny.” Did I detect sarcasm again?

“I wasn’t trying to be observant, Raffles, I was merely making a statement.”

“You interrupted my newspaper for that?”

I held my hand up in defeat. “I’m sorry I uttered a word.”

There was silence for a few moments as I resumed my novel and Raffles his ever-important article. A moment later, he put down his newspaper, folding it up noisily and putting it onto the table. “I recall a time when you were scared of thunderstorms,” he said.

It was apparently one rule for me and another for him. He was allowed to talk and interrupt my reading but not the other way around.

“I was never afraid of storms!”

“My dear forgetful Rabbit, cast your mind back to the days of the old school.”

“Oh.” I felt my cheeks reddening and I hid behind my book to hide my face. I knew exactly what he was referring to but I had until that moment forgotten the entire affair.

…

It had been one of those days back in my youth when I was a fag for Raffles and spent much of the day fetching and carrying for him and much of the evening waiting for him to return after he would sneak out of the dormitory as soon as he could. It had been raining heavily since he had left and I waited in his room, fretting over how he’d get back inside safely when the walls and ledges were so slippery. It was eleven-thirty when I heard him calling me from outside the window. As usual he was much louder than I cared him to be.

“Bunny, I’m home!” he called up to me in a slurred drunken fashion. “Where’s the rope?”

I shouted ‘ssh’ half a dozen times out of the window before he got the idea he was meant to be quiet, and then I threw the rope down to him and he made his ascent. He was singing something as he arrived at the window sill and as I helped him into the room he began laughing. 

“I nearly fell off the rope, my old Bun. You very nearly had a dead Raffles splattered onto the patio.”

“You mustn’t say such things!” It was a beastly thing to consider when I was still so young and unable to think of such horror.

“An image surely represented this morning when you dropped that crumpet and jam onto the floor.”

I scrunched up my face in disgust and looked down at my shoes. “I shall never be able to have crumpets again without thinking of you being taken from me.”

As I looked up, he stared at me for a moment, his face vacant. I wondered what he was thinking. Without warning he started to laugh loudly and deeply. 

“Oh, really my dear Rabbit!” He ruffled my hair until it was messy and I couldn’t remain angry with him after that. 

As he moved into the room toward the table, he lost his balance several times and was forced to compose himself. I always wondered where exactly Raffles went and with whom he got drunk, but it was not my place to ask and I knew he’d never tell me. Instead of asking questions, I helped him to stand upright again. He was wet from the rain, his wavy black hair pasted to his head and his clothes were damp to the touch. His tie was askew and he had a lipstick mark upon his cheek. He was more drunk than he normally was and I was quite jealous of the ones who got to spend time in his company. I was far too young to have any fun! 

“You have to be more careful, Raffles, you could fall over.”

Raffles headed over to the cabinet and opened a drawer, pulling out his secret stash of whiskey. “Indeed Bunny, you’re quite right, I must cut down on my alcohol consumption.” He took a swig from the cannister. “After this one of course.” 

“You’re incorrigible.”

“That I am. I don’t deny it. I’m sobering up now as it happens, just need to stand up for a while, been sitting in a hard chair all night. I say Bunny, close that window, its really coming down out there.”

I nodded and moved to the window to close it but as I began to pull it down, there was a sudden flash of bright light and then seconds later the loudest rumble of thunder I think I’d ever heard. I jumped back, startled, and then it happened again and I’m not sure what occurred but I found myself behind Raffles, inches away, arms around his chest, my hands clinging on for dear life. It seemed a spontaneous and unavoidable reaction, nothing I could possibly do to avoid it. 

I heard a slight squeak from Raffles as he tried to move from my grasp. “Dear little Rabbit, you’re not scared of the storm, are you?”

“No,” I replied, my voice muffled as I spoke from the depths of his jacket, my nose buried in the material. 

“Bunny, you’re clinging rather tightly, old chap, I can barely breathe.”

“Oh!” I said and let go, moving my unruly hair from my eyes. Raffles spun around to face me so I told him I was sorry. 

“It’s only thunder and lightning, what are you so afraid of?”

I looked down again, shuffling my weight from one foot to another. “I’m not afraid.” 

He laughed and at that precise moment there was an enormous clash as if Zeus himself had sent a thunderbolt to us for punishment. It was so fierce that I threw my shaking arms around Raffles’ waist, this time burying my face in his chest. I could feel his heart pumping and for that moment I felt so relaxed and safe. If it were up to me I’d have stayed like that forever but it was up to Raffles and he gently pulled me away.

“You silly thing, nothing to fear. Storms pass, we’re in the comfort of my room. Did something happen to make you so afraid?”

I sat down on the settee and he sat beside me waiting for my response but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him and instead twiddled my thumbs. “I got lost once when I was little. I was outside for hours in a storm. I developed a terrible cold after that, then pneumonia.”

“You poor chap.” He gave me a sympathetic look from his handsome face and then took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with a match. He got up and walked toward the window and I obediently followed. He had only taken a few drags from his cigarette when he handed it to me. “Take a puff it will relax you.”

I did as he said and had only taken a few drags when he took the cigarette back for himself. He finally shut the window but continued to stare at the view. 

“You know,” he said, “lightning really is just a million sparkling diamonds falling from the heavens.”

“Diamonds?”

“Yes, and every time one falls you get a new freckle just there on your nose.” He tapped my nose with his finger and laughed. 

I’d always had a large number of freckles on my nose and I felt embarrassed that he’d noticed. 

…

“I didn’t say that!” Raffles said as we stood by the window at the Albany, looking out at the storm in all its magnificence, recalling our old days together. 

“Yes, you did, A.J!”

“I categorically deny it.”

“Well I heard you say it.”

Raffles smirked. “Then I was drunk.”

“Still said it,” I muttered under my breath.  
“I suppose I wanted to make you smile. You had such a sad little face. I half expected you to start crying.”

My fists clenched together. “How infuriating. I was not going to start crying, I was merely a little apprehensive. Really A.J, sometimes you…”

Raffles chuckled, cutting me off from my rant. He watched as the lightning struck and lit our faces in the semi- darkness. “Well at least now you’re not afraid, eh Rabbit?”

I shook my head shyly. “No, not anymore. It’s not storms these days, its fear of being caught.”

“Doing what?”

“A.J! Burglary of course.”

He took a drag from a Sullivan and savoured it. “Oh that. Ah yes well I suppose the idea of us wearing matching overalls in some hellish prison yard does conjure up some unwanted thoughts.”

“You never take it seriously, A.J. Why are you so relaxed about everything?”

“Like I always say, my dear Rabbit, storms pass and when the worst of it is over the sun always shines again.”

“Why Raffles that’s very poetic of you.”

He smiled widely. “Why thank you, Bunny. Your face always seems to provide me with inspiration, especially those freckles,” he said tapping my nose and smirking.

“Oh A.J!”


End file.
